Sinister Haunting
by duffshel
Summary: Trick ‘o treat. Smell my feet. Give me somethin’ good to eat. If you don’t, blood will run. And then we’ll have some real fun.


**Summary: **Trick 'o treat. Smell my feet. Give me somethin' good to eat. If you don't, blood will run. And then we'll have some real fun.

**Disclaimer: **This is all written in fun. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and the producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue.

**Title**: **Sinister Haunting**

**By: duffshel**

It was a chilly night. The air was frigid for that time of year, but there was little to do about it other than stand it. Full moon lit up the area in a wash of silvery white. Trees bent and swayed in the light breeze rushing around the obstacles standing in the way. Darkness grabbed up whatever was left, hanging on with a tight grip.

The house stood tall and proud in front of them. It was an impressive structure of wood and metal. But the dark windows with the ripped up curtains were unwelcoming. This place craved on screams and deep, perverted thrills. And people kept giving money to such a thing.

"I cannot believe people pay nine dollars to go through this thing. That's just highway robbery, man," Nick Stokes reached up and shifted the black baseball cap on his head as his chocolate brown eyes darted around the front of the house. The wind licked at the strands of hair that reached out from under the dark fabric.

Warrick Brown chuckled and bounced his kit a little in his hand, "Oh, but the scares are some of the best, bro. I mean, a dude can get the shit kicked out of him in less than five seconds in that mess."

"Yeah," Nick nodded his head, a small grin on his lips, "And I'd say that's something that actually happened. Makes me never want to go through another one for the rest of my life."

"You telling me you've been through them before? Mister Tight-ass Texan?"

Laughing full out, Nick turned to face his fellow CSI a little more head on, "What better way to get your date to grab on tight, man. Just have to do it right and she'll be yours for the rest of the night."

"Play'a!" Warrick joined in the laughter as they managed to start walking again. Each man walked with ease, nothing bearing down on them that night. This was an unusual case and both were up for anything that it could throw at them.

Captain Jim Brass frowned at them, but the corners of his lips deceived him. The right side rose slightly more than the left, but it was enough to show that smile wanting to come through. He tried to stare them down with all the authority he could muster, but all he got was two flashes of two different sets of pearly whites.

"You two wanna be a little more professional around here, huh? What are people going to be saying that you two are laughing at a homicide?"

Nick simply smiled bigger, "Oh come on. You telling me people aren't going to be saying enough about this? A murder in a haunted house? Can't get weirder than that on a night like this. Full moon and all, bringing it all out in full force."

"Always said Halloween should be banned from Vegas," Brass nodded and turned his attention back on the house.

The sign over the door was printed in large letters, painted blood dripping off each one. It was faded, worn from the elements and time. For being the House of Nightly Terrors, it was nothing more than a production put on by the local high school students to raise money for school activities. But now it was a homicide crime scene.

"We have one D.B. on the second level, first room. Let's see, makes that room number six. Male victim, Caucasian. Young," Brass said evenly.

Warrick looked at him with slight confusion, "You didn't I.D. him yet? Usually something you like to do right away."

"I wasn't touching anything that I didn't need to up there. Wasn't going to risk it. Have to wait until he's back in the morgue and a bit more cleaned up."

"That bad?" Nick looked grim at the prospect.

"You'll see. Place is cleared out. Just waiting on the two of you. Terror indeed."

Neither CSI said another word, simply began their trek up the cement stairs leading up to the wooden porch. Behind them there were different voices, some shouting out in question, others in fear. Flashes echoed off the house back into the night from the cameras people were using to capture a small piece of murder history.

The floor boards creaked under their weight. Nick looked down at his feet, brow crinkling up at the sounds. It sounded authentic, like weathered boards of wood should sound in such a situation. For some reason the hair began to stand up on the back of his neck as he looked at the large door in front of them.

It was a deep shade of brown. There were decorated panels cut out in various patterns into the wood. A large, stain-glass window pane stood out at the top center of the large wooden barrier, color undistinguishable in the lack of natural light. The door knob was elongated, carved in the shape of twisted snakes.

"You ready to do this, man?" Warrick asked as he reached out his latex gloved hand to open the door.

Nick nodded, "Hey, you wonder why the door's closed? Shouldn't they have left it open?"

The two exchanged a look and Warrick shot a glance over Nick's shoulder at the police captain watching them on the porch, "I dunno. Maybe one of the new guys didn't think about it and closed the damn thing. Doesn't matter anyways. You know how many finger prints are going to be on this damn thing anyways?"

"Yeah, I guess. Let's just get in there and see what we're dealing with."

Holding his breath, Warrick turned the knob. It was well greased and turned without hesitation. The door swung open on its own accord opening up the house to the two men. Grabbing his flashlight and turning it on, Warrick took the lead into the house, picking up his kit from where he placed it by his left leg. Nick looked over his shoulder once before following, his own personal light in his right hand.

The main hallway was large, the floor covered in a deep red carpet. On the walls were large paintings depicting different torture devices and their uses. Others gave off tiny scenes in ghastly murders. One in particular caught Nick's eyes. It looked to be an oil painting with two people running through a field. Things might have been peaceful if not for the fire burning around them and the ax embedded in the man's skull as he ran.

"Wow, people are really twisted."

"Yeah, but that's what sells in these things. Everyone wants the scariest, the worse of the worse. That's how you get people to spend their money to get scared by people in costumes."

"And to think, I used to be one of those fools. Never again."

Warrick turned to smirk at the shorter man, "You think you ain't still a fool? Ha! Could prove you wrong on that one, bro."

"Whatever, man. Just get those oversized feet of yours moving, would ya?" Nick shoved at the other man's shoulder with a slight chuckle.

It was tranquil in the house. Without people in it to scare you, it really wasn't all that impressive. Sure the carpet was nice and plushy, the walls lined with twisted paintings, but the scare wasn't there anymore. Nick felt himself relax a little as they moved forward. They couldn't see any stairs and figured they would have to follow the path the house that was meant to lead its victims in. They just about went through the first open door when the main door of the house slammed shut.

Nick jumped a mile and swore, "What the fuck! Anyone there?"

No one answered on either side of the door. Warrick let out a hard breath, hand gripping the kit bag harder in his hand, "Musta been the wind. It's nothing. Let's go."

Sensing that Warrick was moving, Nick felt compelled to move with him. But he couldn't stop from watching the door with squinted eyes as he walked into the other room. His eyes adjusted quickly to the light change.

"Dang!"

"You can say that again. This is nice."

It was a room set up to look like some warped operating room. In the middle was the path for the paying customers to walk through without having to dodge around any of the props. But it was what was gated off that was the most impressive.

To the right side, there were several chairs lined up against the wall. In two of them sat two bodies, one without a head, the other without a torso. Nick tilted his head as he took it in and couldn't quite figure out what each of the dummies was made out of. They looked so real, almost glossy under the light.

Warrick poked him and directed his attention to the left side where the action really was. A steel table was covered with blood and guts. No single human body could produce the carnage that rested there along side some mutilated body. Blood spray covered the walls, covered more paintings of death. No doctor or nurses were present. Those were meant to be played by real people.

"They must have had a huge budget to get this thing together," Warrick whistled under his breath.

Nick nodded, shuffling a little to get them moving, "And way too much time on their hands."

"If that's the first room, I wonder what we got ahead of us. I think this thing is set up in about fifteen different rooms."

"Body should be in the sixth, I think," Nick tried to remember the details they had been given from the detective waiting for them on the outside, "Up the stairs."

A slanted doorway awaited them and both walked through with broad steps. They now entered a world that could have existed quite nicely for both Freddie and Jason. It was a woods built indoors. Several trees rose out of the ground, dangling over their heads. There was even a small pond in the far corner, with red water of course.

Looking around, Nick could see a chainsaw propped up against the far wall. Stepping over the small fences in place around the path, he moved over to the piece of equipment. Nick pocketed his flashlight and picked the saw up.

"Real?"

Nick shook his head, "Nah. No blade. Probably just makes a hell of a lot of noise. This is done in so many of these things all over the country. Probably can buy them now for this sort of thing. Impressive looking blood though." The latex of his finger turned pink as he brushed a finger over it. There was no real smell to it other than a faint copper-like odor. Fake blood just kept getting more and more real.

He set the saw down and looked around a little more. There was nothing more there, but a few splatters of blood. Nick noticed a large pool of blood on his way back towards the path. That must be the place where the "victim" dies for the customers.

"How many people they get to work in this thing?"

Warrick shrugged, swiveling his light towards the next doorway, "I dunno. Probably need at least thirty or forty to make it good. Each room had to have at least three people in them and then you need the back stage hands for the lights and crap."

"Leaves us with a hell of a lot of suspects. This might take longer than we thought."

"Don't get ahead on this Nick. Let's just wait and see what we get when we find the body."

Rolling his eyes, Nick followed Warrick into the next room. This one looking like a dog kennel made especially for Satan's personal guard dogs. There were several cages lining various spots on the walls. Food bowls were covered in blood, chunks of dead animals laying all over them. The water dishes were filled with red water that shined in different patterns as they two CSI's walked through. Nick shivered as he swore one of the dogs watched him as he moved.

Unconsciously Nick shifted closer to his friend, his eyes locked on the black ones of the brown dog lying on its side in the closest steel cage. The latch was open. Hinges weren't anything important to keeping the creature back if need be. Nick watched as it gave him a toothy grin as they moved on. A gleam of red shined in the murderous eyes.

Shaking his head and closing his own eyes, Nick reached out a hand and brushed it against the fabric of Warrick's vest. The coarseness of it brought him back a little and gave him enough courage to open his eyes to the latest scene. Warrick didn't react to the touch, probably didn't even know it was there.

In room four, they entered a world of twisted Disney.

Two large men sat in their own personal electric chair made out of thick pieces of wood. There were metal caps resting over both heads, smashing fake hair down to fake, sweaty looking skin. Since the trail kept them tight against the wall in this room, they could see everything with one sweep. It was the stuffed toys that made Nick swallow the lump in his throat harshly.

Warrick leaned forward a little, trying to get a better look at the closest guy's face. Sweat drops seemed to literally roll down the man's nose right in front of him. And there was a warm breeze coming from the man in different intervals. Like breathing.

"Damn. This place is just getting creepier," Warrick tried to keep the nervous tremble to a minimum as he hid his unease at the bodies in front of him.

"Uh huh. Let's get to the body and get out of here. Super Dave can get his guys to help load the dude up and get him out of here on his own. I am really beginning to hate this place."

"Know what you mean," Warrick drifted off in his words as he looked at the other man and was sure he saw a smile disappear under the waxy appearance, "Brass said they checked this place completely, right?"

"Yeah. And you know he meant it. Wanna go back and get someone? Have it looked at again?" Nick hoped he didn't sound as hopeful on that thought as he was sure he did.

"Nah. We can do this. We're big, bad CSI's after all. Nothing we can't handle."

They exchanged a look and turned at the same time in the direction of the next room. Nick literally held his breath as he walked over the threshold, in the lead this time. He stepped into the twilight zone and didn't know what to really think of it. Aliens really had never scared him and this wasn't all that bad. Nothing like what they had just come through. It was almost out of place in the pattern.

"E.T. gone bad, huh. Interesting," Nick remarked, feeling better about that dog now that he was in this room. Part of a large spaceship hung out from the wall, the hanger door open and resting on the floor in front of their feet. The people must have played the roles of the aliens because there was nothing else in the area.

But the lights inside the door were on. Tiny shines of yellows, reds, and greens reflected off the silver wrapping on what had to be cardboard walls. Nick watched transfixed as they danced around, changing in patterns. A computer screen was visible from his position. There was a green face on the screen, screaming at him.

"Hey, you see that? I think they forgot to turn everything off in this one," Nick turned to get Warrick's attention, his finger extended in a pointing gesture towards the ship.

Warrick walked over to his side, "What? I don't see anything?"

"But, the lights were on. Just right…" Nick's voice dropped off into shocked silence as he turned and looked at the dark interior of the ship. There was no green face on the screen. It was black. Everything was black inside of it. Nick fumbled for his light and shined it inside. Nothing was on. Nothing.

"Might have just seen something from my light, man," Warrick said tightly, trying to convince himself as much as the other man, "No big deal. Don't freak out on me now."

Taking a deep breath and nodding, Nick managed to tear his light away from the ship and back towards the direction they had to move in. This was only five rooms down. Nick wasn't planning on visiting any of the other ones. He was coming back this way, evil dog be damned.

Walking through the newest doorway, Nick was surprised the startling boring hallway that led to the staircase. The red carpet was back. On the walls was a deep wood paneling. Candle-like lights reached out from the walls, way of lighting the way for customers. Nick started his journey upwards.

Until his foot feel through the seventh stair, "Shit!"

His foot sank downwards through what felt like sticky mud. It was being pulled downwards by some sort of suction. Nick felt two hands drop down on his shoulders, gripping onto him tightly. He had thrown his own to hands out towards the walls only to realize there were no banisters to grab onto. Both sweaty palms scrambled for some sort of purchase on the paneled wood.

"I got ya man," Warrick huffed from behind him. But Nick's foot only went down about a foot. Enough to throw him off balance, but nothing more. The two men stood there for a moment, confused, until Nick pulled his foot back out of the hole. His pant leg and boot were clean. The carpet sprang right back into place.

"Okay. What the _fuck_ was that?" Nick said in a slightly higher pitch than he was used to using. He spread his feet out on the step so the section of the stair was directly under him. His eyes were wide as he looked down and saw a dark hand reach out to touch the area from behind him. Warrick's hand pushed the spot down, the carpet moved with it.

"Seems to be some sort of trick. Floor goes down, person thinks they're falling through it. Good trick to play in something so plain, no?" Warrick tried to make light the fact that both their heart rates were too quick right then.

Nick looked scandalized, "Oh yeah, sure. You see me laughing my ass off?"

"Just keep walking. Slowly. There might be another trap before you reach the top."

"Wanna go first?"

"Hell no."

"Figures. Thanks."

"No prob."

Nick kept himself pressed towards the wall as he walked up the stairs, switching his feet one over the other as he went. There were no more escapades on the stairs, but that didn't mean Nick felt any better when he reached the top. Again, another boring hallway with red carpeting.

The smell of blood reached his nose. It was strong, stronger than in the first room. They were about to come on it for real this time. The scene was close. Nick walked slowly, watching the walls with tight apprehension.

In front of him was a solid, closed black door. There were no distinguishing marks, notches within the wood. One could almost say it was perfect though it was skinnier in width than the standard for most doors in a home. And it was smooth against the latex on the pads of his fingers as Nick reached out to rub a hand over it. The shiny knob was gold, clashing against everything around it, void of color or not.

Casting an unsure glance over his shoulder at the man behind him, Nick turned it and pushed the door open. It screamed in protest at the action and Nick had to use more of his weight behind it than he was ready for. This wasn't like the other, the main door of the house. This one pushed back against him as he worked to get it open.

He had to blink his eyes several times as he looked into the new room. If one could truly call it a room. There was a black wall about four feet directly in front of him. Nick kept looking forward, eyebrows bunching together, eyes moving from side to side. He could hear Warrick coming up right behind him, feeling the air the other man was breathing.

Turning his head to the right intending on looking at his friend, Nick saw that the wall moved away from him in a short hallway. Looking quickly to the left, the same thing. There were two ways to go in this section, all surrounded by black walls. And no light.

"Which way?"

Warrick shook his head, "Hell if I know. Either way could lead us through whatever this is or take us away from the body. Can't tell. Thing goes to the ceiling and I don't see any lights in here."

"Split?" Nick asked with more question in his voice than warranted for his age.

"You really wanna?"

"No."

The two stood there, door now closed behind them. Only light giving them something to work with was coming from the two flashlights they held tightly in their hands. Someone had died somewhere in this place and standing there wasn't getting their job done. Nick suddenly thought of something that made him feel a little safer.

"We split up and work our way in. When one of us comes across the guy, use the phone. Simple."

Breathing hard out of his nose, Warrick looked to his right, "Alright. But no shit. Let's just get this thing done. This place is freaking me out."

Each held up their flashlights in a salute, knocking them together before splitting off from the other. Nick turned left and looked as deep into the area as he could, his light bouncing from side to side as fast as he could move it. Nothing was there. He managed to start walking.

More black wall after black wall. It turned, it twisted. Nick walked further into the beast. He gulped heavily as he seemed to watch the light he was casting was getting sucked into nothingness. Even the sound his boots had been making on the floor was completely gone now. It was only him and the black walls.

After making what seemed like the hundredth circle, Nick finally heard something. And it wasn't a sound a dead body made. He quickly pressed himself up against the black wall, his skin finally touching it. It was waxy, almost like the feel of dead flesh after it had been exposed to the elements for a bit. Almost like there was a light cover of some sort of moisture. But the sound was coming closer so he didn't dare think of it anymore.

Only sounds. No movement, no light. But something was coming closer. He could hear it. And whatever it was walked slowly, precisely. It sounded like it was hunting, a predator. Nick's breath hitched, he fought back a chocking noise deep in his throat. It was almost there.

Forcing himself to keep his eyes open, Nick waited, breathing as little as he could manage. It was almost on top of him now. Still, nothing that he could see anywhere. And suddenly he realized his light was still on. He fumbled for it, trying to keep his movements to a minimum. The sound stopped directly in front of him.

Nick's eyes widened and his teeth clamped down on each other. It was right in front of him and he couldn't see it. His light didn't work. Something was wrong. He could feel his heart speed up and his breathing was harsh through his nose. Closing his eyes for a second, Nick felt something fall down on his left shoulder.

Jumping back with a cry, Nick opened his eyes quickly. There was light now. From two sources. Warrick stood in front of him, hand on his shoulder. Both their flashlights were now visible, showing each man to the other. And Nick could see his friend was just as spooked as he was.

"Okay, that wasn't right," Warrick kept his voice low, whispering to Nick.

"Where the hell did you come from? And why the hell didn't you say anything," Nick's twang came out thick through his panicked breathing.

"I'd ask the same shit of you, man. Heard something, but couldn't see a damn thing in here. Then all of sudden, you pop out of nowhere. Fake wall or something?"

"No. I heard a noise too and backed into the wall. Stood there the whole time."

Warrick reached his right arm up towards his face, wiping at his chin with the sleeve of his shirt, "Alright. You find the body?"

"No. You?"

"No."

"Well, where the hell is it?" Nick waved his flashlight around the air in front of him in scattered patterns, "I came from that way, you from that one. Where do we go from here?"

Turning around in a tight circle, Warrick was ready to admit his lack of knowing for those questions when something caught his attention, "Hey Nick. There's a third hallway right here."

"What? Where? I didn't see one before," Nick shifted to his friend's side, his light joining Warrick's.

"Yeah, well. It's here now. And I don't see any other way so this is the way I'm going. You heading back?"

"Um, no," Nick took another step forward to prove his point, eyes set in defiance. Warrick shook his head a little and led the way into this latest trick. It was just like the hallways they had just walked through. Black and dark. It turned and curved in different directions. From how much they were walking, this maze seemed to take up the entire second level of the house.

He about to ask Nick another question when his body slammed into something hard and solid. A pained groan escaped his throat, the kit that he had been holding in his left hand dropping to the ground. Warrick felt Nick slap a hand onto his back, "You okay 'Rick?"

"Yeah, peachy," he lifted his light and it stopped on a new solid black door, "Guess this is the end of this damn thing. Brass must of not considered this a room and the body's on the other side."

Nick didn't bother answering him, simply reached out and fumbled with the door until it opened. The scent of death was strong, rushing to cover both men with its sticky scent. Since Warrick was in front of the Texan, he went in first. Nick reached down to pick up the discarded kit and followed.

Lining all the walls not intercepted by the walkway were bails of hay. Several stocks of corn were scattered here and there amongst them. To the left stood a small contraption, probably meant to be some sort of tractor. It was the body lying in a large pool of blood that drew the both their gazes.

"Finally," Warrick stepped towards the man, watching where he was placing his feet on the floor. Like with the other rooms, no light was provided and the floor was darkly carpeted. It was hard to tell where it was safe to place his own feet, but tried the best he could.

Moving over and handing Warrick his kit, Nick could see that it was a young man, probably a teenager. His body was mutilated, leaving only his head in any sort of completeness. One of his arms was severed from the body, cuts slicing all over his torso. Nick guessed it was the large gash in his neck that was the mercy blow.

"We should really wait for Dave. This is something else," Nick looked around the room, looking for anything other than fakeness, "Murder weapon might be right in this room."

"You wanna look for that? I'll get the photos."

"Sure thing. Just yell when you need me to move or something for ya."

Nick stepped into the hay, the smell strong. There were several places with different configurations of blood splatters and he knew it was going to take a lot of swabs. It was unclear on the purpose of the room. He would have to speak with the director to maybe get some help on deciding what was real and what wasn't. But there were several different things in the room that might have been used as weapons in the murder.

Lying on one of the bales, there were two hammers and a crow bar. Each piece was covered in blood, all of it dry from the light of his flashlight. Nick turned and walked over to where he had set Warrick's kit on the floor and began to rummage through it. He pulled out several swabs which he put into his back pocket and several large paper bags. Nick placed the bags near the tools and took a small swab from each. He would wait until Warrick photographed the area before packaging all three of them.

About six feet away, there was a large, single sided ax. Nick frowned a little, his lips pursing outward as he looked at it. The thing looked so familiar though the CSI couldn't exactly figure out why. He got closer to it and bent down a little so it was clearer to him. Suddenly he remembered that painting from the entrance hallway. But this one wasn't embedded into the head of some man.

"Weird," Nick mumbled under his breath, standing up and shaking his head. He wondered if it was meant to be or if it was just some coincidence that no one thought about. Either way, it added to his freak out factor since he had entered the house.

He pushed out his stomach a little, stretching the muscles in his back as he turned to look at different areas of the room. The flashes from the camera forced him to blink often, but he didn't say a thing about it to Warrick. They would be able to get out of there sooner if everything got done quickly. And that's all Nick wanted right now.

One of the flashes was thrown off something shiny that was in the corner. Nick's head twisted a little the left and forward as he picked his way through the hay towards it. Dust was kicked up by his boots, clouding the air around him. The particles danced around in the bobbing light he was offering to the room.

Without knowing it, Nick began to grin a little as he reached the object and was able to make out what it was. He couldn't help, but to think of Family Guy and the Grim Reaper that was a regular character on the show. But when he held the weapon, it never did look quite as scary as it did here with the wet blood on it. Nick leaned forward, taking in the entirety of the scythe.

It stood about five feet tall. The handle was thick, wrapped in heavy leather with the small handle sticking out for the other hand grip. Underneath the red blood, the steel was dark and engraved with some symbols. Nick tried to decipher them, but he didn't have any luck doing so. It looked almost like Latin to him.

"Hey, think I just found the murder weapon."

"Yeah?" Warrick stopped photographing the body and made his way over to his friend, "Dang. That has to be hard to be accurate with. Think we're looking for someone with a large stature, definitely a guy."

"Maybe. Just get some shots of it. Got enough of the body?"

"Yeah. But we can't really do much without Dave. I'm going to try calling him and see what's up with him," Warrick turned off his flashlight and reached into his pocket to fish out his cell phone. It was small in his hand, but he managed to get it flipped open and started pushing some buttons. Nothing happened with it.

Warrick turned a bit, moving his arm out from his body. His eyes stayed locked on the phone, watching the screen for anything. The movements got Nick to look over at him. Taking in the frown, Nick had to know what was wrong, "What's going on, man?"

"No reception. Nothing. Can't even get it to ring out. Try yours."

Nodding, Nick made the same motions of getting his phone out of his pocket. It flipped open, the pale blue shine reflecting in his brown eyes. He looked towards the top corner. He had no lines, nothing. Punching down on a couple of the keys for his speed dial, a message popped.

'Out of Service.'

"Nope, sorry. Nothing from mine either. Who'd a thought that we wouldn't have service in this thing. I get great reception in some of the oddest places and nothing in here. Strange."

"I still don't want to touch this guy until David's had a chance to get here. I'll get some more photos, you can take a couple swabs from around his body. Then I say we head out and wait. We can come back in with more force."

"Sure. I just want to get out of here. Never would'a thought these things could be scary without the people inside running them. Or I'm just letting things get way out of hand inside my head."

"Second on that one," Warrick responded as he switched spots with Nick so he could get the photos needed of the tools. He took one photo of each as they were and then a second of each with the ruler for the scale.

Nick squatted down as close as he dared to the young man. A lot of the blood that had pooled under his body was beginning to solidify and Nick could see his fingers were bending up towards his palm. From those two things, he would have guess that the kid might have been dead for as few as three hours to as many as twelve. It was hard to tell without a liver temperature to help the process along.

The swabs absorbed the blood as Nick swirled them through it. As he did so, he looked as best he could for bloody footprints around the body. There were none. But he did find an interesting looking fingerprint on the lower, right forearm of the young man. It was made out of blood, but it was elongated, almost too long for a normal person's finger.

"Hey, you get a photo of this print?"

"What print?" Warrick frowned as he picked his way back over to where Nick was at. He looked to where Nick was pointing and could see the print clear as day, "That wasn't there before."

"I dunno. It's there now. Take a photo of it and I'll lift it."

The flash was even brighter now that it was closer. Nick turned his face away from it and looked off to where the scythe was leaning. As the flash died down and his pupils expanded again, something gray shifted by the tool. It was like a wavy cloud, no distinct shape to it. Blinking once, hard, Nick looked again, but whatever it was disappeared. Or wasn't there in the first place.

"We good? I really want to get some more people in this place with us."

"Yeah. I think we got enough for right now. Need to get the lights turned on in this place or something. Running off of two flashlights is certainly not enough."

"No kidding. Alright, let's get moving. I say we just head back since it should be shorter."

"You really want to go through that maze again?"

Nick nodded, "Yeah, we don't know what's waiting for us. Could be another hour before we get out without anyone to help us. We know all we have to do is head back to where it splits. Either one will take us back to the main door and then we just walk out that way. Simple."

"Yeah, sure thing. You better be right, man. Or I'm going to make you pay for it."

"Anything you want, you can name it. Well, it has to be inside the normal guidelines of course."

"What, you don't want to run naked through the lab's halls? Might be fun."

"I'd rather save that one for Greg."

"Now that I'd love to see," Warrick laughed as he gathered up his kit that he had finished packing up. The camera was secure so they wouldn't have to worry about the photos from getting ruined in anyway and the swabs were all separated and labeled.

He passed the kit off to Nick before walking over to the door they had come through. It had closed at some point when they weren't paying an attention. Warrick figured they had all the doors triggered to close after the people went through them. It would make it scarier and keep people from seeing what was coming up as they moved through the house.

Reaching out for the knob, Warrick cleared his throat a little. All the dust from the hay was irritating the lining along his esophagus and making his throat feel scratchy. He grasped the knob and tried to turn it. It didn't budge. Warrick tried it the other way, but got the same results.

"Uh, Nick. Door won't open."

"What? What do you mean it won't open? You twisting it right?"

Warrick tried both ways again, and again. There wasn't even the slightest movement other than the shift of his sweaty hand over the metal, "Yeah. Nothing. We can't go back it seems. Have to go forward and see what's there."

"Great," Nick threw this right hand in the air, the flashlight leaving a halo of white light on the ceiling for a second, "Just can't wait to see what else these kids came up with. Going to have to remember this for when we come back in. I'm going to prop all the doors open and flood this place with all the lights we can get. Call the damn fire department if I have to."

The Texan stormed off, in the other direction. Warrick took one last look at the door before turning around to follow his friend. He was sure they could hear Nick's stomping from outside the house. It was just that loud. And it reminded him of a tantrum a little kid might make. All in all, it was amusing.

"Damn Nicky. What got your panties all up in a twist?"

"Oh yeah, like you're just loving it here in this thing. I just like to get out of here. That's all. Just out," Nick made a face before charging into the next room. He was brought up short. "What the…?"

It was white. A perfect white. There wasn't a single blemish in the entire room. Just a perfect shade of white from the floors to the ceiling. It was blinding at first from the darkness, then just plain confusing.

"Damn," Warrick whistled as he stepped up behind Nick and took his own look around, "Wonder if we'd be able to get footprints off that floor if we tried it."

"Doubt it. Place looks spotless. Why would you put something like this into a haunted house, man? Just seems so…out of place."

Warrick shrugged before giving Nick a little push to get him going again. It was enough to cause Nick to lose his balance and fall forward into the room, the kit tossed off to the side. His hands hit the ground in front of him, forcing a pained grunt from the man. But it was the chill from the ground that made Nick frown. The floor felt like there was ice underneath it.

"Hey, you okay Nick?" Warrick reached down and wrapped both hands around Nick's upper arm. He helped pull Nick to his feet, but could tell by the frown his friend wore that something was wrong, "Hey, you hurt yourself?"

"Nah," Nick shook his head slowly as he looked from his hand to the floor, "But something's up with the floor. It's freezing to the touch."

Looking down for himself, Warrick took in the sea of white. The temperature itself in the room was fairly warm. He didn't see how the floor could be cold to the touch. But Warrick didn't say anything. Simply, he crouched down and placed his own hand on the white floor. It was cold.

"Wow, that's something I'd never expect. Feels fine once you get right above it, just the floor itself then," Warrick commented as he lifted his hand upwards for a moment before placing it back down.

Nick took a couple steps into the room, bouncing a little on the soles of his feet, the rubber of his boots protecting the skin from the cold. It was completely solid like any other floor. Nothing shifted or moved under his weight. He turned and watched as Warrick followed him further into the room. The door closed behind the other man. Somehow it got even brighter in the room.

The sound of the click alerted Warrick and he turned to grab at the handle. There wasn't one on this side. Just a solid white piece that fit into the rest of the crazy white puzzle. "Man, this place is just getting too weird for my tastes. Since nothing is gonna happen in here, let's get a move on."

Getting no argument from Nick, Warrick picked his kit up from where it had fallen and gripped the flashlight hard in his hand. He marched across the room, not stopping until he reached the other wall. The sound of footsteps behind him proved Nick was with him so he didn't worry. But he did start to worry when he couldn't find the next door.

"Shit. Door isn't here. Must be somewhere else in the room. Have to look for it."

"This must be the trick of this one," Nick mumbled grimly, "Get 'em stuck and let 'em scramble to get out. Nice."

Each man started in about the same spot and worked in the opposite direction as the other one. Nick ran his hands up and down the wall, feeling for any sort of jump in the paint. He got half way across the wall before there was a slight break. His fingers followed the line. With all the whiteness in the room, Nick's eyes were letting him down, not letting him see as he normally would. It was annoying and almost intimidating under the circumstances.

But he had found a new door handle, "Hey 'Rick. Got the way out! Over here."

"Alright. Get it open and let's go. Brass is probably wondering what happened to us out there. We've taken forever getting this far and we still haven't really done anything with the scene."

"Don't know about you bro, but I want someone else in this thing with us before we come back. We can feed Super Dave to whatever it is if it comes after us."

"Just get your skinny white ass moving, bro," Warrick was almost bouncing from foot to foot as he waited impatiently for Nick to pull open the door. Neither wasted time leaping through it into the next room. Warrick didn't even look as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Nick breathed out slowly, confusion dripping from the three words he managed to get out of his mouth, "Wha' the fuck?!"

It was an operating room. Just like the very first one they went through. Everything was the same, lined up the same on the walls. And right down the middle was the path in the same odd twist as before. Nick's mouth closed with a hard clink as he found something that was different.

By the headless body in the chair, a head was now present. And it was looking right at him. Nick squinted at it and waited. It blinked. Yelling out, Nick jumped into the air, a hand instinctively reaching out to grab at Warrick for an anchor.

The other CSI jumped because of Nick's jump, "What?"

But Nick couldn't get anything out other than wheezy breaths. It sounded harsh, but Warrick ignored it and followed the pointing finger. He saw the head next to the body, "And? What am I looking for Nick. It's just a…"

Again it blinked and this time the mouth opened in a silent scream.

Without looking another moment, Warrick dropped the black bag and slammed both hands down onto Nick's shoulders and pushed. The Texan stumbled a little, but seemed to get the point that they needed to get moving. And right now. Looking only once over his shoulder, Warrick walked as the head winked at him, mouth turned up into a sinister smile that would have scared Dracula.

Nick almost wanted to scream as he took in the familiar slanted doorway they were running towards. He didn't like it. Every hair on the back of his neck was standing and his blood was running cold. And it wasn't from the sudden drop in the surrounding temperature either.

"Go! Go!" Warrick pushed him on so Nick didn't have a chance to slow down. His entire body slammed into the door, it opening without his hand on the handle. This time he did go down to the floor, hitting it hard with his knees. Warrick tripped over him and went down to both his hands next to him.

Turning his head to check out his friend, Nick met up with a pair of red eyes. Only six inches in front of his face. The toothy grin was back and this time blood was dripping off the suddenly larger than life fangs. Nick paled and scrambled to move back only to come into contact with Warrick's larger form.

The dog slowly advanced towards him, growling deep and low in its throat. Both front paws were caked in things Nick didn't care to ever know. He felt a hand close around his shoulder, tightly. Nick turned his head a small bit. He could only make out Warrick's shape from the angle. But he could feel the tremble coming through the hand to his body.

His mouth opened, only a small whisper on the dusty air, "Warrick?!"

No response. The dog lunged.

!#$&()+!#$&()+!#$&()+

It was still windy and chilly outside. Captain Jim Brass buried his hands deep inside his pockets as he frowned at the house. It had been a long time since the two CSI's had gone inside. And he couldn't get through to them when he tried to call in. Some pleasant woman's voice just pissed him off by telling him the customer he was trying to reach was unavailable.

Several cops were still walking around the house, playing detective from what he could tell. No one wanted to sit there any longer, but Brass didn't want to rush this thing along. But even he had so much patience for such a thing. And he had to wait for the damn coroner to get there so he could take him inside.

A new set of headlights shined on the area and Jim turned to look for the source. It was the familiar morgue van with David smiling apologetically behind the wheel. Jim shook his head and moved over to the driver's door and pulled it open before the van was even turned off.

"Took long enough."

David didn't let it bother him as he got out of the van, working around the larger form of the detective still holding onto the door, "Busy night. Got here as fast as I could. But I don't have anything else yet for after this. We can get this done however you want."

It was meant to placate the older man and it worked. Jim nodded and stood back so David could gather up his things. The other man that had come with the field examiner was someone Jim had never seen before. He had heard they were bringing someone new into the morgue to help out and he assumed this was that person. Didn't matter all that much to the cop so he didn't bother to ask about it.

"Alright. All set. Where's Nick and Warrick?" David asked as he fell into step with the other man. Jim kept a quick pace as they walked back to the cement sidewalk that lead up to the wooden porch on the front of the house. He didn't bother to answer the question, figuring they would see them soon enough as it was.

The door was closed. Brass frowned as he turned the knob and pushed the thing open, out of his way. It smelled like old moth balls inside. His nose crinkled up in offense and he waved his right hand around in a poor attempt to create a fresh breeze.

Tacky yellow wallpaper seemed to shout out at him as he walked in. Jim really didn't understand why people would have sunshine yellow wallpaper in the main hallway of a haunted house. And with oddly patterned white and black tile on the floor. It wasn't scary at all. But, maybe, that was the point to this. Get them comfortable and then scare them.

"Where's the body?"

Jim turned to look at the field coroner and he could see the kid wasn't paying attention to the decorations of the hallway, "It's upstairs in the sixth room. Nick and Warrick are probably there waiting for us, doing who knows what to keep themselves occupied…and most likely getting into some sort of trouble."

There were arrows in various locations on the floor to point the direction the people should move in. It was a helpful little device, but it just added to the not so scary factor this entire place had going on. Jim remembered as soon as he walked in the door the first time why he never talked about this as a good place to get a scare. It just wasn't happening in this haunted house.

David walked about two steps behind him, to the right slightly. Two officers had taken a place at the open doorway behind them. Jim didn't pay it any mind. He just walked towards the door he knew led into the mess of this place.

Spider webs hung from the ceiling in odd, dilapidated patterns. It was dark, normally with a strobe light. But, with the house shut down for the investigation, it was boring and pathetic. Jim marched through the room, not bothering to even waste time looking at the walls. And it was the same for the other rooms they trudged through to get to the yellow papered hallway that led to the stairs.

It was spider web after spider web. Occasionally there was a hay bale or something to that affect. Even David looked confused as they hiked it up the stairs to the second level. More boredom awaited them.

"Alright, next room. Guys should be in there. Gonna have to yell at them for not answering their phones when I call," Jim led the way through the room with a cardboard coffin propped up against the wall, the door falling off the tape hinges.

"Okay. Have to make sure we can get the body out of here without too much trouble," David picked at some of the white cotton that had snagged his clothing, "I don't think I want to come back here if I don't have to."

"Don't blame you there. In here."

His right hand reached for the handle and it squealed in protest at having to be opened, but the captain didn't take orders for a door so he pushed his way into the room. It was darker than he remembered, but pretty much the same. Well, except for the fact they didn't have a body anymore.

"Uh," David looked around his shoulder, "Where is it?"

Jim frowned, looking for the blood pool he knew had been there, along with that body, "It was right in here. Saw it myself earlier. Damnit. What the hell is going on?!"

He looked around the room and took a few more steps into it. The frown got deeper, ingraining its way into his flesh. "Nick? Warrick!"

No one answered. Jim stomped his way to the next doorway and threw the door hard against the wall. It looked the same as it had before. And it didn't have a body in it, just like before. This was the right room. But where was the body? And where were those two CSI's?

"Um, Captain Brass?" David asked with slight hesitation in his voice, enough to get the older man to turn and look at him.

"What?"

"Were these paintings in here before?"

"What paintings?" Jim asked as he walked over the David's side. Lining all the walls of this room were large paintings. The detective didn't really remember seeing them before. Of course, the last time he had been in this room, the walls weren't a huge concern for him.

David ran a finger down one of them, taking in the texture, "They're different. And so violent. Seems unfitting for the rest of the house. I mean take a look at this one. Male getting sliced in half by a scythe. That's gotta be painful. Oh, and this one. Guy with an ax in his skull."

Jim nodded as he moved to look at a couple of other ones. After three, he was bored and ready to start searching for the two CSI's. But something did catch his attention. There was a newer looking painting on the wall. So new that the paint was still shining as it dried.

Inside the image were three human characters. One was a man dressed all in black, mouth open in a silent scream. His hands were both holding large butcher knives. He was running towards the front of the painting, towards where the other two figures were. By the man in black's side, one large dog with burning red eyes.

But it was the other two figures that caught his attention and made him feel sick to his stomach. A white male and black male were running away from the other one. Panic was clear. As were the chocolate brown and green eyes. Leaning closer, Jim was sure he was seeing things.

On the black vests wrapped around each of the men, there was blood. It was there, Jim knew it was. As were two separate words on each vest, in the same location.

Stokes. Brown.

The house suddenly settled. Jim watched as the oil in the painting moved. He watched the two leading males run away. But he turned away when the dog lunged. It was all changed when he looked back.

"Captain?" David walked over, looking concerned.

Jim could do nothing more than point at the painting with a shaking hand. The two men were closer to the front. And Jim could see the fear. He could see the death. There was nothing he could do as the painting suddenly began to be pulled back into the wall, like water into a sponge. All he could do was watch the dog take Nick down while the man grabbed Warrick.

He could only see the screams. He couldn't hear them.

**The End**

_**God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled. **_

_**Author Unknown**_


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